PS  _ 
3526 
M25g 


Mygatt 
Good  Friday 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


f-    *'  -  '-«=t  date  stamp 


.     SOUTHERN  BRANCH 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

LIBRARY 

'LOS 


-  CALIF. 


GOOD    FRIDAY 

A  PASSION    PLAY   OF   NOW 


by 
TRACY  D.  'MYGATT 

author  of  "WATCHFIRES",  "THE  NOOSE", 
and  other  plays 


61214 


with  an  introduction  by 

JOHN  HAYNES  HOLMES 


Copyrighted  April  1919 
by  TRACY  D.  MYGATT 


All  rights  reserved.  For  permission  to  pro 
duce  this  play,  application  should  be  made 
to  the  author,  23  Bank  Street,  New  York. 


PRICE,  FIFTY  CENTS 


GOOD  FRIDAY,  A  PASSION  PLAY  OF  Now,  was 
first  produced  at  the  Peabody  Playhouse,  357 
Charles  Street,  Boston,  April  19,  1919,  under  the 
direction  of  John  Pratt  Whitman  and  Eleanor 
Wood  Whitman,  and  with  the  following  cast: 

THE  KEEPER JOHN  PRATT  WHITMAN 

THE  DOCTOR JAMES  H.  DALTON 

IVAN.  .  .  .HARRY  MAXIMON 


A  second  production  was  given  at  the  Central 
Music  Hall  in  Chicago  on  May  14th,  1919,  under 
the  direction  of  David  Douglas,  and  with  the 
following  cast: 

THE  KEEPER DAVID  DOUGLAS 

THE  DOCTOR M.  L.  SORBER 

IVAN  '. .  . .  ARTHUR  PROCTOR 


To  the 

CONSCIENTIOUS   OBJECTOR,- 
Who  builds  today 
The  Cooperative  Commonwealth, 
The  City  of  God. 


INTRODUCTION 


Miss  Mygatt's  "Passion  Play  of  Now"  deals  with 
one  of  the  most  highly  controverted  questions  of  the 
Great  War — that  of  the  so-called  "conscientious 
objector,"  who,  for  inward  reasons  of  opinion  or 
conviction,  refused  to  obey  the  nation's  call  to  take 
up  arms  and  submit  himself  to  training  for  battle 
against  the  enemy.  It  is  an  extraordinarily  vivid 
and  sympathetic  portrayal  of  the  spiritual  issue 
which  was  involved  in  this  problem,  the  lofty  motives 
of  love  and  brotherhood  which  were  frequently  at 
work,  and  the  essential  religious  drama  which  was 
enacted  in  case  of  punishment  and  persecution.  The 
author's  skilful  use  of  the  Good  Friday  setting  points 
its  own  terrific  moral.  Few  persons,  of  whatsoever 
opinion  on  the  "conscientious  objector"  question, 
will  read  this  play  without  profound  emotion;  none, 
I  trust,  without  thinking  the  problem  through  afresh, 
with  real  endeavor  at  least  to  understand.  If  Ameri 
cans  are  still  Americans,  with  sentiments  unspoiled, 
however  much  disturbed,  by  the  fears  and  passions 
engendered  by  the  conflict  against  Germany,  this 
play  should  do  for  "conscientious  objectors"  in  this 

7 


Introduction 


country  what  John  Galsworthy's  "Justice"  did  for 
ordinary  prisoners  in  England. 

It  may  be  well  to  recapitulate  briefly  the  circum 
stances  which  led  to  the  sorry  situation  which  dis 
graced  the  nation  during  the  War,  and  still  exists  to 
its  shame  six  full  months  after  the  signing  of  the 
armistice. 

When  the  Conscription  Act  was  passed  on  May 
18,  1917,  it  was  well  known  that  there  were  a  con 
siderable  number  of  citizens  in  the  country  who 
regarded  war  as  murder,  and  military  service  as  de 
liberate  training  for  murder.  Congress  itself  recog 
nized  this  fact  by  exempting  from  military  and  naval 
service  "any  person  .  .  .  who  is  found  to  be  a 
member  of  any  well-recognized  religious  sect  or 
organization  at  present  organized  and  existing  and 
whose  existing  creed  or  principles  forbid  its  mem 
bers  to  participate  in  war  in  any  form  and  whose 
religious  convictions  are  against  war  or  participation 
therein.  ..." 

This  provision  was  excellent,  so  far  as  it  went; 
but  it  fell  short  in  two  particulars.  In  the  first  place 
it  made  the  ridiculous  ethical  mistake  of  regarding 
conscience  as  a  corporate  and  not  an  individual 
affair,  and  therefore  of  accepting  outward  member 
ship  in  an  institution  (which  might  well  be  a  matter 
of  inheritance  or  accident),  instead  of  inward  per 
sonal  conviction,  as  evidence  of  reality.  In  the 
second  place,  it  confined  the  action  of  conscientious 


Introduction 


scruples  against  war  to  the  religious  field,  and  thus 
gave  no  recognition  to  that  large  and  growing  class 
of  objectors  who  are  moved  by  political  rather  than 
spiritual  motives.  The  former  of  these  blunders  was 
partially  corrected  by  Executive  Order  of  the  Presi 
dent  (March  23,  1918) ;  the  latter  inhered  through 
out  the  War,  and  is  still  working  its  havoc  at  the 
present  moment. 

The  real  betrayal  of  the  nation,  however,  appeared 
in  the  administration  of  the  law,  rather  than  in  the 
law  itself.  At  the  very  outset  was  committed  the 
fearful  blunder  of  handing  over  the  "objectors"  to 
the  military  branch  of  the  government  for  treatment, 
instead  of  keeping  them  in  the  civilian  branch  where 
they  properly  belonged,  and  thus  subjecting  them 
to  the  insane  and  uncontrolled  rigors  of  martial  law. 
Hundreds  of  "objectors"  were  thus  segregated,  beset 
by  orders  which  they  could  not  heed,  court-mar- 
tialled  for  disobedience,  and  condemned  to  ferocious 
sentences  in  miltary  prisons. 

More  serious  was  the  almost  universal  suspicion 
with  which  these  men  were  regarded  by  those  to 
whose  mercy  they  were  committed.  We  now  know 
that  this  suspicion  was  not  justified.  Major  Walter 
G.  Kellogg,  of  the  U.  S.  Board  of  Inquiry,  testifies 
that  whereas  in  the  beginning  of  his  work  he  "firmly 
believed  that  they  (the  conscientious  objectors) 
were,  as  a  class,  shirkers  and  cowards,  ...  an  ex 
amination  of  over  eight  hundred  objectors  in  twenty 


io  Introduction 


widely  distributed  military  camps  and  posts  con 
vinced  (him)  that  they  (were),  as  a  rule,  sincere — 
cowards  and  shirkers,  in  the  commonly  accepted 
sense,  they  (were)  not."  Nevertheless,  on  the 
assumption  of  their  insincerity,  these  men  were  sub 
jected  to  inquisition,  and  those  most  truly  sincere 
and  therefore  unwilling  to  accept  any  form  of 
service,  non-combatant  or  other,  given  over  to  pun 
ishment. 

The  result  was  the  almost  complete  defeat  of  the 
law,  and  of  a  well-intentioned  government.  Hun 
dreds  of  members  of  religious  sects  opposed  to  war, 
specifically  exempted  by  the  terms  of  the  Conscrip 
tion  Act,  were  put  behind  the  bars;  I  have  on  my 
desk  a  list  of  three  hundred  and  fifty-six  at  Fort 
Leavenworth  on  March  10,  1919.  Hundreds  of 
others,  bravely  sincere  for  religious  or  political  rea 
sons,  were  sentenced  to  long  terms  of  imprisonment 
because  of  petty  infractions  of  discipline,  refusal  to 
obey  military  orders,  or  failure  to  satisfy  the  Board 
of  Inquiry.  Control  by  the  military  led  inevitably 
to  persecution  and  torture.  Solitary  confinement, 
midnight  baths  under  ice-cold  showers,  beating  up 
by  armed  guards,  immersion  in  the  filth  of  latrines, 
assaults  with  fists,  clubs,  fire  hose — numerous  in 
stances  of  these  horrors  are  on  record.  A  few  men 
died  from  oppression,  many  sickened  or  were  dan 
gerously  injured,  all  suffered  cruelly  in  mind  and 
body.  Nothing  depicted,  stated,  or  suggested  in 


Introduction  1 1 


this  play  is  an  exaggeration.  And  the  crime  of  these 
men,  in  most  cases,  was  simply  that  of  "taking  Jesus 
at  His  word!" 

Now  the  War  is  over,  and  many  of  these  men  have 
on  one  pretext  or  another  been  released.  Many, 
however,  are  still  languishing  in  jail,  with  little  pros 
pect  of  release.  Their  one  hope  is  amnesty,  imme 
diate  and  universal;  and  to  this  end  should  all  who 
love  America,  and  would  keep  her  free  from  shame, 
now  work  untiringly.  There  is  no  conceivably 
worthy  motive  in  keeping  these  men  longer  behind 
prison  walls.  Their  punishment  vindicates  no  law, 
acts  as  no  deterrent  upon  others,  exerts  no  redemp 
tive  influence  upon  themselves.  Every  principle  of 
justice,  every  plea  of  mercy,  every  ideal  of  America 
and  purpose  in  her  battle  against  Germany,  clamors 
for  their  release.  Only  vengeance  and  the  still  un- 
sated  passion  of  war,  bar  their  passage  to  freedom. 
If  these  men  are  forgotten  by  their  fellows,  or  con 
demned  by  deliberate  judgment  to  a  continuance  of 
their  misery,  there  can  be  only  one  conclusion  drawn 
— that  is,  that  all  the  conscience  there  is  in  America, 
is  now  in  prison! 

To  avoid  this  shame,  as  well  as  to  deliver  these 
martyrs  to  conviction,  Miss  Mygatt  has  written 
this  play.  "If  any  man  has  ears  to  hear,  let  him 
hear";  and  hearing,  let  him  act. 

JOHN  HAYNES  HOLMES. 
New  York,  May  8,  1919. 


GOOD    FRIDAY 

A  PASSION  PLAY  OF  NOW 


SCENE 

The  corridor  before  a  cell  in  a  Military  Prison. 

TIME 
Before  dawn,  Good  Friday 

PERSONS 

The  Keeper, 
The  Doctor, 
The  Sacrifice  (Ivan). 


14  Good  Friday 

The  scene  is  the  draughty  stone  corridor  of  the 
north  wing  of  the  prison.  As  the  curtain  rises, 
what  was  at  first  perceived  as  pitchy  black  is  shot 
with  flickering  lights,  and  the  voices  of  two  men  are 
heard,  as  they  stumblingly  approach;  for  an  in 
stant,  still  invisible,  they  pause,  apparently  to 
unlock  a  door  off  left,  for  a  heavy,  grating  sound 
is  heard.  Then  they  come  on,  Keeper  and  Doctor, 
stopping  before  the  iron  door,  centre,  which  is  the 
entrance  into  the  cell  whose  inmate  they  have  come 
to  visit,  and  upon  which  begin  to  play  grotesque 
shadows  from  the  lantern  in  the  hand  of  the 
Keeper.  His  face,  too,  when  caught  in  its  rays, 
reveals  aspects  curiously  remote  from  the  conven 
tional  masque  his  occupation  would  suggest;  sen 
sitive  aspects,  unhappy  scepticisms  and  swift 
recalcitrancies  making  him,  to  the  discerning  eye, 
almost  as  anomalous  in  his  setting  as  is  the  doctor, 
with  his  cold,  cruel  lips,  and  the  shifty  glance  that 
mocks  its  owner's  boasted  therapy.  In  the  voices 
of  both,  beneath  the  bravado  of  the  one  and  the 
quick  servility  of  the  other,  lurks  the  deadliest  of 
the  prison  blight, — fear. 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  15 

DOCTOR 

[Irritably,  as  he  approaches  from  the  left] 

Damn  him!     What  does  he  want,  this  time  of 

night, 
Dragging  me  from  my  bed — ? 

KEEPER 

[Hastily] 

It  wasn't  him! 

He  didn't  ask  for  nothin',  sir!    'Twas  me! 
He  never  asks  for  nothin' — that's  the  thing, — 
It  makes  you  nervous — kind  of  creepy,  sir, 
I  thought  you'd  better  see — 

DOCTOR 
[Brusquely] 

Well,  let  me  in ! 

Be  quick  about  it,  too!    It's  beastly  cold 
In  this  north  wing! 

KEEPER 

Yes,  sir,  at  once!    At  once! 
[He  does  not  move] 


1 6  Good  Friday 

DOCTOR 

[Testily] 

Well,  then,  why  don't  you?    You're  cold,  too! 

Why,  man, 
Your  teeth  are  chattering,  and  your  hands — 

KEEPER 

Please,  sir, 
It's  not  the  cold — ! 

DOCTOR 

Well,  spit  it  out ! 

KEEPER 

It's— it's— 
[He  stops,  unable  to  say  more.] 

DOCTOR 

[Shaking  him  by  the  arm] 

What  is  it,  man?     Your  face — do  you  know, 

Jack, 
You  look — it's  that  queer  light,  there  is,  of 

course, 
Your  silly  trembling  hands  flinging  the  green 

rays 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  1 7 

Of  your  night-lantern  so  about — !    You  look 
As  if  you'd  seen  a  ghost! 

KEEPER 

[Swiftly] 

Oh,  no,  no,  sir! 

I  never  seen  a  ghost!     I  don't  believe 
In  no  such  nonsense!     Dead  is  dead,  I  say, 
And  quick  is  quick! 

DOCTOR 
[With  a  laugh] 

Well,  if  he's  quick  in  there, 
[with  a  jerk  toward  the  closed  door] 
It's  more  than  you  are — out! 

[Seizing  him  roughly] 

Make  haste ! 

KEEPER 
[With  a  violent  shiver] 

Don't!    Don't! 

DOCTOR 

[With  ironic  curiosity] 
Don't  what,  you  fool? 


1 8  Good  Friday 

KEEPER 

(Too  frightened  to  resent  his  tone] 

Don't  joke !    Don't  laugh !     Remember 
What  night  this  is,  sir! 

DOCTOR 
[In  extreme  irritation] 

What—?    Will  you  unlock? 
Or  must  I  take  the  key  myself?     [Mockingly] 

"What  night?" 

You  stand  there  asking  that,  this  time  of  night, 
Until  I'll  root  to  the  spot  in  a  minute, 
Just  like  you!    "What  night?"    A  hell  of  a  night 
If  you  want  my  views — ! 

KEEPER 
[With  a  shudder] 

May  God  forgive  you,  sir, 
For  saying  such  a  thing — and  here — [very  low] 

where  he 
Could  hear  you! 

DOCTOR 
[Jeeringly] 

Hah !  Not  through  that  door ! 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  ig 

KEEPER 

Hush,  sir! 
It  might  be — 

DOCTOR 
[Cutting  in  with  a  jeer] 

And  he'd  be  shocked  at  me?     Christ! 
I  am  to  mind  my  language  for  a  slacker! 
Is  that  it,  Jack?    And  be  yanked  out  of  bed 
Because  you  think  he  needs  a  pill — the  cur — 
That  stands  all  day  above  his  uniform, 
— The  glorious  garb  that  most  men  honor — 

love — 

And  he  won't  touch  to  save  himself  from  tor 
ture! 

Too  good  for  it  he  thinks  himself!    The  fool, 
To  court  starvation  rather  than  wear  it! 
Think  of  it,  Jack !    You  know  some  day  he'll  die, 
Even  he  can't  live  forever  on  such  fare,  and — 

KEEPER 

[Desperately] 

No,  no!    Not  that!    Take  it  back,  sir!    Take  it 
back! 


2O  Good  Friday 

Not  die !   Not  in  my  time !    [Very  low]  I  couldn't 

bear 
To've  been  the  Keeper  of  a  man  that  died — ! 

DOCTOR 

Stow  it !   Don't  many  die?   Nor  my  fault,  either, 

All  the  doctors  going  can't  save  a  man 

Once  prison  really  gets  him!    Odd  thing,  that, 

How  you  don't  need  capital  punishment 

To  do  the  work! — Now  open  up,  Jack,  quick! 

KEEPER 

[To  himself] 

Not  die!    Not  with  that  face!     I  don't  know 

where 
I've  seen  that  face  before,  but — 

DOCTOR 

[Impatiently  snatching  the  key  from  him  and 
vrith  cold  fingers  twisting  it  in  the  great  lock 
of  the  door.] 

Damn!     It's  stiff ! 

It   won't   budge!     Here,   you — lend   a   hand! 
Look  here, 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  21 

I  don't  believe  you  were  made  for  a  keeper! 

If  you  don't  hurry  up  I'll  have  you  fired! 

Or  [Suddenly  wheeling  about  and  staring  into  his 

eyes] 

or  would  you  rather  I  went  back  again 
To  bed? 

KEEPER 

[Taking  the  key  in  frantic  haste] 

No,  no!    I'll  open,  sir!     I'll  open! 
[Slowly  the  lock  yields  to  his  pressure  and  the 
heavy  door  begins  to  swing  open.    For  a  mo 
ment,  himself  seeing  what  is  within  and  is  as 
yet  invisible  to  the  other,  the  Keeper  stays  it 
in  his  hand,  turning  upon  the  Doctor  wide  eyes 
of  incredulous  wonder.] 
And  it  Good  Friday,  sir!     Good  Friday! 

DOCTOR 
[Contemptuously] 

Well—? 

[Then,  unable  or  unwilling  to  speak  further,  the 
Keeper  allows  the  door  to  swing  wide  open.  At 
first  it  seems  as  if  one  were  gazing  into  void; 
then,  as  the  blackness  yields  to  the  dim  rays  of 
the  lantern,  one  makes  out  the  bars  of  a  cage, 


22  Good  Friday 

some  six  by  seven,  within  which,  below  the  tiny 
barred  window  high  above  his  head  at  the  back 
of  the  cell,  there  stands  a  man  in  scanty  under 
wear.  One  says  "stands"  rather  in  point  of 
fact  than  of  effect;  for,  though  his  bare  feet  rest 
upon  the  floor,  just  clear  of  the  rumpled  khaki 
that  is  his  uniform,  the  arms,  wide-flung  like 
the  arms  of  a  cross,  and  the  expression  upon 
the  tragic  bearded  face  suggests  a  figure  that 
hangs,  rather  than  stands.  And  that  it  sug 
gests  the  Figure  upon  the  Cross  is  at  once  ap 
parent  in  the  startled  gesture  of  the  Doctor  out 
side  the  cell.] 

DOCTOR 
[Retreating  a  step  further  into  the  corridor] 

Good  God! 

KEEPER 

[Quietly,  though  he  trembles] 
Yes,  sir, — like  that  each  time  I  come! 
That's  why— 

DOCTOR 

[Trying  to  recover  himself,  the  prisoner  through 
out  wholly  detached] 

But  he's  not  chained  or — hung? 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  23 

KEEPER 

No,  sir! 

DOCTOR 

His  arms  are  free?    He  can  move  them  about? 

KEEPER 

Yes,  sir.    But  every  night,  the  last  four  days, 
After  I've  taken  off  the  manacles 
That  chain  him  to  the  bars — 

i 

DOCTOR 

[Starting] 

He's  chained  all  day? 

KEEPER 

[Stolidly] 

Them  are  my  orders,  sir,  and  very  strict! 

[Then  with  sudden  fierceness] 
I  wish  to  God  some  other  keeper  here 
Had  my  job! 

DOCTOR 
Hush!     What  were  you  going  to  say? 


24  Good  Friday 

KEEPER 

[In  a  low  voice] 

Well,  every  night  this  week  I've  found  him — 
[with  a  gesture]  so — ! 

DOCTOR 
[Restlessly] 

Why  don't  you  tell  him  to  lie  down? 

KEEPER 

I  have! 

I've  begged  him  to,  time  and  again  at  night, 
When  I've  come  stealin'  up  like  this! 

DOCTOR 

And  what — ? 

KEEPER 

He  only  looks  at  me,  and  when  he's  looked 
A  long,  long  time,  sometimes  he  speaks  and 
says — 

DOCTOR 

[Furtively  regarding  the  prisoner] 
What  does  he  say? 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  25 

KEEPER 

He  says,  "I  must  keep  watch !" 

DOCTOR 
[With  an  uneasy  attempt  at  a  laugh] 

And  yet  there  isn't  much  for  him  to  see! 

IVAN 
[Softly  but  very  distinctly] 

I  must  keep  watch ! 

KEEPER 

[Starting] 
There,  sir!— What  did  I— 

DOCTOR 

Hush! 
Faking,  that's  all!    Wants  to  get  out  of  here! 

KEEPER 

[Eagerly] 

No  sir,  he  never  speaks  of  getting  out! 
Nor  of  the  beatings  and  them  icy  baths, — 


26  Good  Friday 

You  know,  those  months  in  camp  before  he 

came. 

It  seems  like  he  was  very  far  away — 
I  can't  explain — you  couldn't  sir,  yourself, 
There's  things  inside  his  head — there  must  be, 

sir, 
To  give  his  eyes  that  look — 

IVAN 
[As  before] 

I  must  keep  watch ! 

DOCTOR 
[Facing  him  insolently] 

On  what?    On  us,  you  silly  faking  coward? 
No,  sir,  that's  our  job,  Evetts  here  and  mine, 
[in  a  business-like  tone] 

Our  job  to  watch  you!    Do  you  understand? 
[making  a  move  forward] 

Here,  now!     Cut  out  that  stuff!     We've  had 

enough ! 
Put  down  your  arms! 

[As  he  does  not  move] 

Damn  you,  put  down  your  arms ! 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  27 

KEEPER 

[Anxiously  interposing] 
He  don't  obey  no  orders,  sir! 


DOCTOR 

I  know! 

But  I'm  a  doctor!    That's  a  different  thing! 
Perhaps  he  hasn't  in  the  past  because 
They  were  all  orders  from  the  Commandant, 
The  Military  orders  they  despise, 
These  precious  conscientious  fools  we've  got, 
Corrupting  other  soldiers! — Well,  go  in! 
[With  a  gesture] 

Unlock  those  bars!    I  guess  he's  weak  enough 
For  two  of  us  to  manage!    [In  a  sharp  whisper] 

You've  your  gun? 
You  keep  it  with  you  when  you  come  up  here? 


KEEPER 

[Shamefacedly] 


Yes,  sir,  but  he — 


28  Good  Friday 

DOCTOR 

Don't  talk!    I'm  loaded,  too! 
[He  draws  out  his  revolver.] 

Go  in,  and  put  his  arms  down — then  I'll  come! 
[As  the  doctor  covers  the  figure  with  his  revolver 
and  stands  narrowly  watching  him,  the  Keeper 
unlocks  the  barred  grating,  Ivan  still  giving  no 
sign  that  he  sees  what  is  going  on,  continuing 
to  stare  fixedly  beyond;  inside  the  cell,  the 
Keeper  hesitantly  approaches  him.] 

THE   KEEPER 

[Unsteadily] 
Put  your  arms  down — please! 

DOCTOR 
[Furiously] 

Is  that  your  method? 
Put  them  down  yourself! 

[With  an  angry  gesture] 

Like  this — now  do  it! 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  29 

KEEPER 

[As  before] 

Please,  sir, — I — I  can't!    I  couldn't  touch  him! 
[Swallowing  hard] 

Not  when  he  looks  like — that — ! 
[With  sudden  passion] 

Oh,  can't  you  see — ? 

DOCTOR 
[Angrily] 

See?    Yes!    A  slacker!    And  either  faking  mad, 
Or  perhaps — [coming  closer] — perhaps — 

KEEPER 
[With  desperate  eagerness] 

Yes,  yes!     Perhaps,  sir — ? 

DOCTOR 
[Insolently] 

Or  perhaps  really  mad ! 

[Ironically  regarding  the  horror  on  the  other's  face] 

What  did  you  think 
That  I  would  say,  you  superstitious  fool? 


30  Good  Friday 

KEEPER 

[Softly,  cowering  beside  the  rapt  figure] 

They  all  said  that  before,  that  other  time, 
Or  that  He  had  a  devil,  or — 

DOCTOR 
[Starting,  scarcely  believing  his  ears] 

Damn  you! 

Stop  it,  I  say!    Or  I'll  begin  to  think 
You're  in  cahouts  somehow,  collecting  cash 
From  friends  on  the  outside,  to  set  him  free! 
[Meaningly] 

And  taking  bribes' — a  pretty  serious  crime! 

KEEPER 

[Hoarsely] 

I  don't  know  what  you  mean !    I've  never  tried 
To  get  him  out! 

[With  shuddering  self-realization] 

I  am  his  Keeper,  sir! 

His  Keeper!    His!    In  prison!    Twenty  years! 
[With  mounting  wildness] 

But  no  one  bribed  me,  sir!    It  wasn't  me! 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  31 

It  wasn't  me,  I  say! 

[With  passionate  earnestness] 

I  never  took 

One  single  piece  of  silver,  let  alone 

Thirty—! 

[For  a  moment,  with  irrepressible  fear,  the 
Doctor  regards  him.  Then,  surmounting  his 
emotion,  still  covering  Ivan  with  his  revolver, 
he  leaps  inside  the  cell,  and  reaches  his  hand 
to  the  Keeper's  wrist.] 

DOCTOR 
[Jerkily] 

Hush,  Jack!     You're  sick!     You  don't 

know  what 

You're  saying!    Just  come  along  with  me,  man! 
I'll  fix  you  up  with  something  in  my  office! 

KEEPER 
[As  if  coming  to  himself] 

I'm  not  sick,  sir!    It's  him  you  come  to  see! 
[He  goes  quietly  to  Ivan  and  takes  one  of  his 
hands  in  his.] 

It's  hot,  sir — don't  you  think  you'd  better  feel? 


32  Good  Friday 

DOCTOR 

[Taking  a  step] 

Well,  if  you  feel  it  hot — [softly]  your  own  is  fire! 
[He  goes  to  Ivan  and  takes  his  wrist  reluctantly 
between  his  fingers.  A  moment  passes.] 


DOCTOR 
[Under  his  breath] 

God!    What  a  pulse!    I  can't  count  that!    (To 

Ivan,  more  gently]    Here,  you — ! 
Lie  down  a  bit!    [Looking  about]    Why,  where's 

your  bed  gone,  man? 


KEEPER 

He's  never  had  no  bed,  sir!    You  know  that! 
Not  since  he's  brought  up  here  in  solitary. 
Maybe  that's  why  he  stands.     Of  course  the 

floor's 

Chock  full  of  vermin  here,  spite  of  the  cold ! 
They  wouldn't  send  no  blankets  to  him,  either — 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  33 

DOCTOR 

[Impatiently] 

Of  course!  [To  Ivan]  Why  don't  you  be  a  de 
cent  soldier,  man? 

Your  conscience  isn't  different  from  the  rest! 

It's  all  the  same,  you  know, — just  clay  in  the 
end! 

You  can't  go  on  like  this — you're  very  sick — 

This  business'  got  you  nothing  but  starvation! 

You're  young  to  die,  and  yet,  if  you  persist — 


KEEPER 

[Imploringly,  drawing  closer] 

Don't  let  him  die!    Please,  sir,  don't  let  him  die! 
[In  a  low  voice] 

I  beat  him  once — to  make  him  mind — !  Oh, 

God, 
I'd  die  to  undo  it  now!    Don't  let  him  die! 

[The  Doctor  looks  curiously  from  one  to  the 
other.    Then,  as  he  steps  back  into  the  corridor] 


34  Good  Friday 

DOCTOR 

[To  himself] 

He's  bitten,  too !    Queer  how  a  man's  mind  goes ! 
[Rousing  himself] 

Don't  worry!    It's  all  right!    I'll  fix  him,  Jack! 
We'll  go  downstairs  and  'phone  the  hospital; 
They'll  have  to  send  a  cot!    He  couldn't  walk 
After  this  foolish  business  he's  been  through, 
He's  ready  to  collapse  right  now,  poor  fool, 
Or  will,  as  soon  as  this  trance-state  is  ended, — 
Then  we'll  put  you  to  bed — 

[Starting  violently  as  he  sees  the  Keeper  bend 
ing  over  Ivan's  hand] 

Why,  Jack!     Look  up! 
What  are  you  looking  at? 

KEEPER 
[Kneeling  and  kissing  the  hand  passionately] 

The  nails!    The  nails! 
The  print  of  the  nails — ! 

[There  is  a  moment  of  profound  silence  during 
which  the  extent  of  the  Keeper's  obsession  per 
haps  first  penetrates  the  mind  of  the  Doctor ', 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  35 

though  indeed,  in  the  one  startled  and  inquir 
ing  glance  he  flashes  upon  the  tragic,  far-seeing 
eyes  of  Ivan,  and  upon  the  hand  the  Keeper 
holds  pressed  to  his  lips,  there  is  hint  of  a  fleet 
ing  turmoil  of  his  own.  Then,  as  the  man, 
overcome  by  the  stress  of  his  emotions  and  his 
gathering  fever,  suddenly  falls  forward,  faint 
ing,  upon  the  floor,  the  Doctor  forces  himself  to 
re-enter  the  cell,  and  gently  tries  to  detach  the 
inert  body  of  the  Keeper  from  that  of  his  pris 
oner,  who  still  stands,  cross-like,  seemingly 
unconscious  of  the  happenings  about  him.] 

DOCTOR 
[Gently  tugging  at  the  Keeper] 

Jack!  Jack!  Wake  up!  Wake  up! 
[As  he  does  not  respond,  he  steals  a  furtive 
glance  at  Ivan,  as  quickly  averting  his  eyes  and 
redoubling  his  efforts  to  rouse  the  other;  pres 
ently  realizing  their  futility,  and  himself  un 
pleasantly  conscious  of  the  strangeness  of  the 
situation,  he  begins  to  drag  him  outside  into 
the  corridor.  This  accomplished,  with  trem 
bling  hands  he  pulls  to  the  grating  and  locks 


36  Good  Friday 

it;  then  he  looks  dubiously  at  the  big  second 
door  and  shakes  his  head.] 

[To  himself] 

The  Prisoner's  weak — better  leave  that  alone, 
So  that  he'll  get  more  air;  and  I'll  be  back 
With  help  in  just  a  minute! 

[Resting  his  hand  a  moment  on  the  Keeper's 
pulse] 

He's  all  right! 
Where's  that  lamp  gone? 

[After  a  flurried  search,  he  picks  the  lantern  up 
from  the  floor,  nervously  examines  it,  and,  after 
a  shifty  glance  over  his  shoulder  at  Ivan,  who 
responds  in  no  way  whatever,  he  hurries  away 
down  the  corridor  whence  he  has  come,  his 
nervous  steps  gathering  curious  significance  as 
they  re-echo  along  the  stone  passage-way,  and 
the  tall  flickerings  of  the  lantern  making  more 
sensible  the  thick  darkness  that  settles  over  the 
place  at  his  departure.  For  a  long  moment, 
after  the  vibration  of  his  steps  has  ceased,  there 
is  silence.  Then,  into  this  silence,  breaks  the 
voice  of  Ivan,  conveying  in  even  the  opening 
words  a  great  tranquility] 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  37 

IVAN 

Come,  little  brother,  Christ! 
They've   gone    away,   the  shadows  that  were 

here — 

And  left  me  all  alone,  waiting  for  You! 
I  am  so  glad  to  be  alone  again! 
Now  I  can  talk — I  couldn't  talk  before — 
I  just  stood  watching.     All  the  tortured  things 
That  cried  to  You  on  Your  cross  so  long  ago, 
I  seemed  to  see  them  and  to  feel  Your  pain! 
And  others,  too,  I  watched,  and  longed  to  help, 
Dark  mysteries  of  torment;   pitiful, 
Sacrificed,  astonished,  lost,  and  each  one 
Young,  with  lovely  dreams  all  twisted  in  his 

eyes; 
And  some  of  them  saw  me,  and  raised  their 

hands — 
Hands   crucified   and   young,    like   Yours,  oh, 

Christ!— 

And  blessed  me  for  the  watch  I  kept;  and  then 
It  faded — everything — and  I  was  here. 
The  man  that  comes  most  is  so  strange  and  sad — 
The  one  that  brings  me  water — why  is  he 
Like  that?    Why  does  he  weep?    I'm  sure  he 

does; 


61214 


38  Good  Friday 

He  wept  tonight,  and  moaned,  and  kissed  my 

hand; 

From  very  far  away  I  felt  his  tears, 
And  tried  to  speak,  but  could  not — only  feel. 
And  there  are  times  he  reaches  out  his  arms 
As  if  I  could  assuage  the  pain  within 
That  seems  to  torture  him!    How  can  it  be 
When  he  can  come  and  go  under  the  sky? 
The  sky!    The  sky!    Oh,  little  brother  Christ! 
It's  when  I  think  about  the  bright  gold  sun, 
And  the  glad  sky  high  up  among  the  birds, 
That  I  think  prison  is  a  dreadful  place! 
I  wonder  how  much  longer  it  will  be? — 
One  night,  a  little  while  ago,  I  think, 
I  thought  that  I  was  home,  under  the  sky, 
Ploughing  the  farm  I  gave  to  Sonia 
When  we  were  married;   and  that  she  ran  out 
Singing  the  song  we  used  to  sing  at  home, 
Over  in  Russia,  when  I  was  a  child; 
She  had  our  children  with  her  by  the  hand, 
Sasha  and  Vera  and  the  little  one 
That  only  toddled  when  I  went  away; 
They  too  were  singing,    and   I    caught    them 

close, 
And  all  of  us  stood  singing,  thanking  God! 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  39 

There  was  such  sunshine  over  everything! 

I  wonder  if  I  could  not  sing  the  song? 

It  might  bring  back  the  vision  and  the  peace! 
[There  is  a  moment's  silence;  then,  as  the  first 
gray  light  of  morning  is  perceived  to  be  seeping 
through  the  barred  window  behind  Ivan's  head, 
he  very  simply  breaks  into  the  opening  lines  of 
the  Kolebalnia.  As  the  song  continues  there  is 
a  faint  movement  upon  the  floor  where  the 
Keeper  has  been  lying,  and  as  it  ceases,  his 
voice  is  heard,  hushed  and  awe-struck.] 

KEEPER 

Singing  upon  the  Cross!    How  can  it  be? 
I  must  be  mad,  and  yet  I  thought  I  heard — 

[He  is  dimly  seen,  raised  on  his  elbow,  gazing 

into  the  cell.] 

Yes,  yes!     Who  are  you?     And  why  are  you 

here? 

And  were  you  singing?    And  where  is  the  lamp? 
[Burying  his  face  in  his  hands] 

Oh,  Lord  forgive  me!    I  who  saw  the  nails — 
To  ask  of  you — !    Of  you! — ! 


40  Good  Friday 

IVAN 
[Gently] 

It  is  all  right! 

Why  are  you  frightened?    You  know  He  is  here, 
Darkness  and  light  are  just  the  same  to  Him! 

KEEPER 

[Chokingly] 

Yes,  He  is  here!    I've  known  it  all  along, 
But  more  and  more  each  night — until  I  saw — / 

[softly] 

When  will  the  Resurrection  be? 

[Then  swiftly,  before  Ivan  can  speak] 

No,  wait! 
[Getting  to  his  feet] 

I  want  to  bar  the  door  down  there — 

[with  a  gesture,  left] 

so  he 
Won't  come  in  suddenly!    He'd  only  jest, 

[In  sombre  triumph] 

He  didn't  see  the  nails!    He  couldn't  see — ! 
[He  disappears  for  a  moment,  left,  and  the 
clanking  of  the  door  which  was  heard  in  the 
beginning  is  heard  again,  followed  by  the  bolt- 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  41 

ing  of  the  same.  Then  the  Keeper  returns, 
fumbling  in  his  pocket,  presently  producing 
something  which  when  he  has  struck  a  match  is 
seen  to  be  a  candle;  this  he  lights  and  places 
upon  the  stone  floor  outside  the  cell,  seating 
himself  beside  it.] 

KEEPER 
[Softly] 

It  isn't  that  I'm  frightened  any  more! 
At  least  I  think  I'm  not!    I  only  want 
To  see  your  face!    I  want  to  see  the  love 
That's  in  your  eyes — ! 

[Intently  looking] 

Yes,  yes,  I  do  see  now! 
How  can  one  man  love  other  men  so  much 
That  he  can  bear  to  die — that  way — like  you? 

IVAN 

[Gently] 

He  showed  us  first  the  way! 

[Then,  as  the  bells  of  a  neighboring  church  begin 
to  toll  for  early  service,  the  Keeper,  too  startled 
to  catch  the  other's  full  meaning,  cowers  miser 
ably  closer.] 


42  Good  Friday 

KEEPER 

[In  a  shaking  voice] 

And  now  you  will ! 

You  will  again — !     Oh,  God,  to  see  you  die, 
Just  when  at  last  I  might  have  felt  your  love! 

IVAN 
[Gently] 

Why  should  you  think  I'll  die?   I've  prayed  to  die 
So  often  all  these  months !    It's  not  the  pain. 
I'm  very  sure  it's  not  the  pain  I  mind, 
[Wonderingly] 

It's  thinking  other  men  can  torture  so, 

Men  that  are  brothers ! — Hark !  What  are  those 

bells? 

Are  they  real  bells,  I  wonder,  or  just  bells 
Making  a  sorrowful  music  in  my  head, 
Where  sunlight  dances  on  the  way  to  the  Cross? 

KEEPER 

[With  painful  eagerness,  as  he  kneels  beside 
the  cage] 

That's  it!    That's  it!    They  are  the  bells  to  the 
Cross ! 

[In  a  hushed  voice] 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  43 

And  me  that  used  to  want — oh,  to  remember! — 

To  be  a  priest,  when  I  was  still  a  boy, 

And  deck  the  altar  for  the  Sacrifice, 

And  now — oh,  now — after  the  twisted  steps 

My  feet  have  taken  all  the  twisted  years 

To  kneel  here  now — beside  the  Sacrifice, 

The  living  Sacrifice — the  dying  Christ — ! 


IVAN 
[Faintly] 

Living — not  dying!    Surely  Christ  never  dies! 
It  is  His  love  today — 

KEEPER 

[Breaking  in] 

But  on  the  Cross — ? 
[Pointing  to  the  wide-flung  arms} 

Your   arms    stretched    wide — your    word, — "I 

must  keep  watch!" 
Quick !    Tell  me  what  you  meant — "I  must  keep 

watch!" 

You  said  it  every  night  I  came!    And  oh, 
How  could  you  bear  to  seem  a  slacker — ?    You — ? 


44  Good  Friday 

IVAN 
[With  painful  pauses] 

I  wish  you'd  asked  before — it's  getting  dark! 
I  had  to  watch  over  the  tortured  world,— 
I  don't  know  whether  I  can  make  it  plain; 

[After  a  pause] 
And  that  word — 

KEEPER 
"Slacker?" 

IVAN 

Yes;  I've  heard  them  say 
That  word  so  often  lately — well,  no  matter — ! 
[Suddenly,  with  passionate  energy] 

I  wanted  to  love  back  the  world  to  love! 
I  wanted  to  love  back  the  world  to  love! 

KEEPER 
[Timidly] 
But  Germany — ? 

IVAN 
[Spurred  on  by  his  spirit] 

Nothing  but  love  can  heal! 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  45 

KEEPER 

[With  painful  eagerness] 

And  there  are  men — of  course  not  with  your 

face — 

Not  even  Christians,  so  they  often  say! 
Men  here  in  prison,  men  that  will  not  fight, 

"Slackers"  they  call  them,  just  as  they  called 

—you—! 
They  won't  hit  when  they're  hurt;   they  speak 

of  love, 
— They  call  it  brotherhood — !     What  do  they 

mean? 
They  stay  long  terms;   they  won't  betray  this 

thing — 
What  does  it  all  mean? 


IVAN 
[As  before,  though  by  still  greater  effort) 

What  I've  said!     Oh,  brother, 
What  does  the  name  matter,  so  they  do  the  will? 
They  keep  the  watch — their  watch  and  mine — 

[Suddenly  raising  his  arms  in  ecstasy  as  a 


46  Good  Friday 

shaft  of  light  pierces  the  window,  and  shines 
upon  his  head.} 

Oh,  God! 
The  sunlight's  coming — and  my  watch  is  ended ! 

KEEPER 
[In  bitter  anguish] 

No!    No!    Stay  with  me! 

IVAN 
[Radiantly] 

Little  brother,  love — / 

[Then  quietly,  without  struggle,  he  sinks  down 
upon  the  uniform  at  his  feet,  his  arms  uncon 
sciously  assuming  their  old  posture,  and  his 
radiant  face  caught  in  the  ray  of  sunlight.  The 
bells,  which  had  stopped,  begin  again  to  chime, 
this  time  a  Gregorian  chant  to  one  of  the  Peni 
tential  Psalms,  and  the  Keeper  kneels  quietly, 
his  face  against  the  bars.  Suddenly  a  great 
knocking  is  heard  upon  the  iron  door,  off  left. 
The  Keeper  raises  his  head,  at  first  in  dumb 
bewilderment;  then,  as  the  sound  grows  louder, 
anger  and  bitter  distrust  rob  his  face  of  his  late- 
found  peace.] 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  47 

KEEPER 

[Under  his  breath] 

Let  him  knock! 

[Then,  between  the  knocking,  the  Doctor's  voice, 
off  left.] 

DOCTOR 

[Startled] 

Jack!  Are  you  sick?  Come!  Open! 
[There  is  a  further  moment  of  suspense,  broken 
by  the  continued  knocking.  Then  the  Keeper 
rises,  and  moves  uneasily  toward  the  door  which 
he  has  locked,  pausing  often  to  steal  backward 
glances  at  the  dead  body.  For  a  moment  he  is 
gone,  and  his  voice  can  be  heard  off  left.] 


KEEPER 
[Tonelessly] 

Please  come  alone,  sir!  Let  the  men  wait  here! 
[They  reappear,  the  Keeper  walking  softly 
ahead,  the  Doctor  following,  a  visible  fear  in 
face  and  manner,  the  flickering  of  his  lantern 
overcasting  him  with  curious  gleams.] 


48  Good  Friday 

DOCTOR 

But  why — ?    I'm  glad  you're  better,  Jack,  but 
why— 

[Then,  as  he  comes  before  the  body,  within  the 
bars,  lying  on  the  uniform,  its  radiant,  up 
turned  face  white  and  still  in  the  dawn,  his  face 
sharply  changes;  and  with  a  cry,  as  if  the  ad 
mission  were  wrung  from  him,  he  exclaims] 

DOCTOR 

The  face  of  Christ—! 

[There  is  a  moment  of  profound  silence,  the 
Keeper  standing,  with  bowed  head,  beside  the 
other,  the  tears  coursing  down  his  seamed 
cheeks.  Then,  with  a  terrible  cry,  he  rushes 
forward.] 

KEEPER 

[Desperately] 

Yes,  yes,  the  face  of  Christ ! 
But  who  am  7,  then?   That's  what  I  must  know! 
Answer  me  quickly!    Who  am  I?    Oh,  God- 
To  know  and  love  Him — only  to  be  damned — ! 
[He  breaks  into  dry,  shaking  sobs.] 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  49 

DOCTOR 

[Touching  him  gently] 

What  is  it,  man?    You're  overwrought!    Come 

down! 
Get  out  of  this! 

KEEPER 

[In  a  voice  of  anguish] 

Oh,  to  get  out  of  the  world — ! 
[Turning  bitter  eyes  upon  him.] 

Don't  you  know  who  I  am?    Since  he  is  Christ — 
And  I  have  been  his  Keeper, — killing  him — 
Manacled,    chained,    betrayed     to    those    He 

loved — 
Why — why — 

[Pointing  with  trembling  fingers  to  his  own 
breast] 

queer  how  I  never  guessed  before, 
But  now  I  know — 

[Beckoning  the  Doctor  close  and  speaking  in  a 
terrified  whisper  into  his  ear] 

Judas  Iscariot — ! 


5o  Good  Friday 

DOCTOR 

[Deeply  moved,  trying  to  shake  off  their  mutual 
fear] 

No,  no!    He  isn't  really  Christ,  you  know! 
[Wonderingly,  to  himself] 

—That's  the  queer  part,  now  that  I  stop  to 

think — 

Doing  this  thing  he  did,  not  being  Christ ! 
— Almost  enough  to  make  a  man  believe — ! 
[Rousing  himself  and  turning  to  the  Keeper] 

But  he's  not  really  Christ — 


KEEPER 

[Brokenly] 

I  cannot  tell; 
I  know  he  loved  like  Christ — that's  why  he 

died — . 

The  way  they  kept  him  in  that  dungeon  cell — 
The  beatings  and  the  hunger  and  the  cold! 
And  I — that  killed  him — 

[In  a  desperate  whisper] 

Judas — that's  my  name! 


A  Passion  Play  of  Now  51 

DOCTOR 

[In  a  strange  voice,  looking  straight  ahead  of 
him  to  the  dead  face] 

Not  your  name  only,  then!    Listen  to  me! 
You  didn't  ask  to  have  him  here — ? 

KEEPER 

No,  no! 

DOCTOR 

But  others  did — you  know  that,  don't  you? 

i 

KEEPER 

Yes! 

DOCTOR 

[With  dry  lips] 

Then  don't  you  understand? 

[As  the  other  makes  no  sign,  he  continues  pas 
sionately,  as  if  moved  beyond  himself] 

It's  all  of  us! 

It's  all  of  us, — anywhere — everywhere — ! 
I  called  him  "Slacker,"  "Coward,"  with  the 

rest, 
And  some  of  them  will  kneel  in  church  today, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-Series  444 


t/orct  • 


PAMPHLET  BINDER 
Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
Stockton,  Calif. 


